Home
by snailgoo
Summary: He, however, did not notice her at all. "Unimportant," he dubbed her (as he dubbed most people). It was the first time in his life he'd ever been so wrong. [Akashi/OC]


_(8th grade—first day)_

"Home, sweet home," Azami said to herself as she opened the door and entered her apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights. She ambled over to the couch and lied there in silence. The house phone rang and she dragged herself over to the kitchen and answered:

"Hi dad."

"How was your flight?"

"Fine."

"Good. I'm on a business trip right now; I'll be home in two weeks. You know what to do."

"I know."

They exchanged goodbyes and hung up. Sighing, she looked at the clock. There were only seven more hours until her first day at Teiko Middle School.

"This is okay," she told herself aloud. "This is exciting. Beginnings are exciting." She collapsed on the couch, throwing her head back to look at the ceiling. She stayed and slept there until morning.

—

Sunlight blinded Azami as she stepped out of her building and began walking to school. The wrappers of her peanut butter cups crinkled as she tore them open and stuffed a peanut butter cup in her mouth, pushing away the mild guilt at having candy for breakfast. She closed her eyes briefly and enjoyed the breeze, listening as tree leaves rustled and cars swished by.

Halfway through her walk, she noticed a tall shadow looming over her and turned her head to see. Her eyes widened as she tilted her head up: an extremely tall boy was staring intently at her and sniffing. He was muscular and about six feet tall. _Oh god._

"Did you need something?" she asked, trying to hide her discomfort and fear as he sniffed her. She took five steps back to put a healthy distance between them.

"What is that?" He pointed to her breakfast, disturbingly fascinated.

"...Candy?"

"What kind?"

"Reese's peanut butter cups," Azami answered, still confused. He kept staring at it like child. She tilted her head to the side in realization.

"Do you want to try some?" She cautiously presented one. His face brightened, and he really did look like child as he took her candy.

"Yes! Thank you." He immediately tore it open and began examining it, sniffing and observing. She just watched in fascination. Finally, he took a bite and savored it, then shoving the rest in his mouth. His lips were smeared with chocolate. Azami reached into her bag and pulled out a pack of tissues.

"Here," she said as she handed him one. He thanked her as he wiped his mouth. She relaxed; he seemed harmless enough.

"Anyway, I have to go to school now," she waved as she walked away, unsure of how to properly end their strange encounter, but he kept walking with her. Finally noticing his uniform, she realized that he, too, was a Teiko student. He was only in middle school and already so tall, she noted, although his odd and childlike behavior was not befitting of his physique.

"Where did you get that? I've never had it before," he asked.

"I have a whole jar of them at home. I brought them from the US. I've been living there for the past few years."

"America!" he exclaimed, then sighed. "So much new candy. I want to try…" Azami looked up at his forlorn face and smiled. He seemed genuinely interested in the candy and seemed to have no ulterior motives. He reminded her of her little cousin.

"What's your name?" she asked, finally warming up to him. He snapped out of his candy daydream.

"Murasakibara Atsushi."

"Well, I have plenty of sweets at home from different places. I'll bring you some later if you'd like." She smiled and hoped she wasn't being too familiar.

He looked at her like she was Jesus Christ. Akashi had always withheld new types of candies as punishment or incentive.

He stopped and looked around fearfully as he stooped down to whisper in her ear, "Will you really?"

Her brows furrowed in confusion at his strange behavior. She nodded. They continued walking side by side, only the crinkling of candy wrappers filling the silence. Murasakibara didn't seem to care about anything beyond the candy. That was fine. As they approached the school gates, Azami took in a deep, calming breath. The school looked nice and clean. Milling around, students laughed and conversed. She smiled.

"Murasakicchi!" called a voice behind them. Azami and Murasakibara turned around and saw a blond boy running towards them, grinning. Azami noticed the way his silver earing glinted in the sunlight, and for second she was quite mesmerized. He soon stood before them and she noticed how long and dark his eyelashes were. He was quite the pretty boy.

"Oh, who's this?" he asked, looking at Azami. _Did Murasakicchi find a girlfriend?_

"She gave me delicious candy," Murasakibara answered. The boy chuckled. Of course.

"Nice to meet you! I'm Kise Ryota."

"Nice to meet you too. I'm Akiyama Azami." She smiled and tried to ignore how cute he was. Looking around, she noticed many students staring admiringly at him.

"Azami-san—what a nice name." He took liberties and called her by her first name, somewhat expecting her to be flustered. She just smiled politely.

"Thank you."

"Hurry up! Don't be late!" the school official urged.

"We should go," said Azami. They walked to class and Kise asked her if she was in any club.

"Not yet. This is my first day here. I'm new," she answered. "What about you?"

"Murasakicchi and I are on the basketball team!" he said. Azami stopped in her tracks as her eyes lit up; she surprised him a little with her sudden enthusiasm.

"Really?! I love basketball. Are you guys good?"

Kise grinned. "We're the best! Reigning champions, y'know. There's some pretty amazing people on our team." This excited her greatly. "We have a game today. You should come."

"I will! Thank you." She animatedly walked to class. Kise and Murasakibara sat down in their seats while the teacher made her introduce herself to the class.

"My name is Akiyama Azami. Feel free to call me Azami. I came here from a school in the US. It's nice to meet you all."

"How long did you live in America?" a student asked.

"About 4 years. Sorry if I'm not quite used to all the Japanese customs yet—it's been a while."

"Very good," said the teacher. "You can sit in the middle row next to the window." She took her seat and looked at her neighbor. He was all pale skin and calmness. Very neat. _Should I say hi?_

"Uh, hello. It's nice to meet you," she said. She was done with being awkward. This was a new beginning, after all, and beginnings were meant to be exciting.

He just blinked at her and looked around. "Are you talking to me?" he whispered.

"Yes?" she answered. Eyes widening just slightly, his face showed mild surprise.

"Oh. Hello. It's nice to meet you too. Ah, my name is Kuroko Tetsuya." He still looked slightly uneasy and wondered if his skills were wearing off. Paranoia filled him. Discouraged, Azami turned back to her own table and began listening to the lecture and taking detailed notes. She needed to get a good start with school and do well.

She felt a light kick at the back of her chair breaking her concentration and turned her head. Kise grinned at her.

He leaned forward and whispered, "Hey, Azami-chan! You noticed Kurokocchi."

"Tetsuya-san? Yeah. What about it?" she responded as she wrote.

"That's never happens," Kise explained. Her eyes widened. Was Tetsuya bullied or alienated or something?

"What?"

"Well, he doesn't have much of a presence. If he doesn't talk, people barely notice him."

"Oh." She furrowed her brows. How odd. It also seemed a little lonely.

"Oh, and he's on the basketball team too," Kise noted. Azami looked at Kuroko. He was skinny and not muscular at all, which wasn't a bad thing, but he didn't look like a basketball player. "He's amazing. He's not a regular, but he's playing in the game today. Don't let his puny looks fool you."

Kuroko took an extra notebook and lightly whacked Kise's forehead.

"Hey! I complimented you! Kurokocchi!" Kuroko ignored him as he did his work. Pouting slightly, Kise leaned back in his chair, and Kuroko smiled a little. It was a nice smile, Azami noted, somewhat distracted. Breezy and quick.

Kise grunted behind her. She turned around and saw crumpled paper balls littered around him. He then threw an eraser across the room with frightening accuracy. It hit a tall, muscular boy with dark skin and dark hair. Now _he_ looked like a basketball player. His chair was barely able to contain his long body and limbs. She glanced over to Murasakibara and saw that it was even worse for him. Poor boys. They were just giants.

The boy Kise hit with an eraser became irritated and held up to throw a heavy notebook in retaliation. Her eyes widened. Kise closed his eyes instinctively and put his hands over his face. He felt no impact. Azami caught the notebook and sighed with relief. She looked at the name written on it: "Aomine Daiki."

"Ahh! Thanks, Azami-chan!" He looked at her adoringly before he grabbed the notebook from her hand and swiftly chucked at Aomine Daiki, who fell off his chair with a resounding thud. She whipped her head over to see the teacher's reaction, panicked.

Nothing. He just kept writing on the board, oblivious. The other students, too, didn't pay much attention (except when some were looking at Kise, who, she was starting to realize, was clearly the school's resident heartthrob).

Aomine threw a pencil, then Kise threw more paper balls, and the two went back and forth for five minutes while Azami watched, stunned that they could get away with this. She couldn't look away. Pencils, paper, notebooks, comic books, a stapler—all flying through the air over the heads of unminding students and hitting their target so precisely, it almost seemed like art.

Finally they were both hit simultaneously with pudding cups by an enraged boy sitting directly in the middle of Aomine and Kise. He wore black-rimmed glasses and his hands were in fists, fingers bandaged. His eye twitched. He glared at Aomine, then at Kise.

"I'm trying to learn!" he said sharply.

"Nerd," Aomine scoffed. Still, the teacher didn't say anything. _Seriously, where am I?_ She turned to Kuroko to see that he was completely unfazed and took notes as usual. She glanced across the room to see Aomine Daiki with his eyes closed, hand propping up his head. Behind her Kise looked bored. She turned around.

"How do you guys get away with that?" she asked him. He smiled.

"Tatsuyo-sensei can't hear very well. And even if he could, he's pretty lenient with us. You're lucky to be in this class, Azami-chan."

"Huh." She looked over to the boy with glasses that got them to stop. He seemed to be the only one that cared about their mischief. "Who's that?"

"Midorima Shintaro. Midorimacchi's on the basketball team too. He's our shooting guard."

It seemed like everywhere she turned there were basketball players. "Is Aomine Daiki on the basketball team too?"

Kise grinned. "Power forward." Murasakibara Atsushi, Kise Ryouta, Aomine Daiki, Midorima Shintaro: that made four.

"Who's your last member?"

"Ah. Akashi Seijuro, point guard. He's our captain. He usually sits next to me, actually, but there's a meeting today for all club presidents and team captains right now." She noticed that Kise didn't smile when he told her about Akashi.

"What's he like?" she asked. Kise glanced at the empty desk next to him.

"Well, he's intimidating. Kind of scary. But he's thoughtful and has a good heart, I think. Probably. He's a good captain, at any rate." She looked at him carefully.

"Oh. Well, I'll be sure to come to the game today. Thanks, Ryota." She turned around again and he was caught off guard by her calling him by his first name with no honorifics. _"Sorry if I'm not quite used to all the Japanese customs yet—it's been a while,"_ she had said upon introduction. He just smiled.

"No problem, Azami."

—

The bell rang and she had only written five lines of notes. It was not the good start with school she had been hoping for, but she was just so distracted by all the members of the basketball team.

During break Murasakibara, Aomine, Kise, and Kuroko were all gathered around Azami's and Kise's desks while Midorima sat alone, studying, because "some people could not calm the fuck down and let me learn."

A girl with long hair and sharp eyes joined them.

"Oh! Who's this?" she asked cheerfully.

"Akiyama Azami. You can call me Azami." Azami smiled at her.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Satsuki Momoi." Momoi walked over and sat next to Azami. "This is surprising: you guys never hang out with new people. You're usually so self-absorbed all the time."

"She gave me candy," said Murasakibara, as if that explained it all.

"Girls give you candy all the time, Muk-kun," Momoi responded.

"She gave me _American_ candy."

"Ah." Momoi hoped she wasn't a stalker (the basketball team members had had quite a few of those in the past and Momoi usually had to deal with them). With her keen eyes, she examined Azami with amazing accuracy: she looked about 5'2 and 115 pounds. She had medium length back hair and blue eyes. She seemed calm, and not at all enamored with any of the boys. _Okay, she's safe._ "So, Azami-chan, are you new?"

Azami and Momoi continued talking (and seemed to get along fabulously well, Kise noted) when the door slid open loudly.

"Aka-chin," Murasakibara called. Azami looked over to see a boy standing in the doorway. She was captivated by his heterochromatic eyes—one gold and the other red. They were rather beautiful. His face was stern and his hair looked boyish and fluffy. _Fluffy?_

"Atsushi," the boy acknowledged without any change in his expression. He walked over to the group and his eyes landed on Azami.

"This is Aza-chin," Murasakibara introduced. "She gave me candy."

"I see." He looked her over.

"Akashicchi is our captain, the one I told you about," Kise said to her.

"Oh. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," he said politely as he promptly and casually dubbed her unimportant and moved on.

She continued looking at him as talked to the team about today's basketball game. She noticed his low, powerful voice, commanding and fitting for a captain. She noticed his perfect calmness, although he was still much more animated and bold than Tetsuya. She noticed his perfect posture and firm stance. She noticed his surprisingly short stature and the fact that he seemed large anyway. She noticed his boyish hair, his bangs that swept across his forehead and were maybe a centimeter too long—his only flaw that she could discern. She noticed everything about him.

He, however, did not notice her at all. "Unimportant," he dubbed her (as he dubbed most people). It was the first time in his life he'd ever been so wrong.

* * *

_(8th grade—108th day)_

"Hey, Satsuki, Daiki," Azami said as she approached, dragging Midorima by the arm. Momoi and Aomine sat on the grass under a tree, enjoying their big lunch (all store-bought, of course, because Momoi was beyond bad in the kitchen and Aomine was too lazy to cook). "Shintaro is hungry, but he forgot his lunch and is too stubborn to ask anyone for food. You guys want to share?"

"I am _not_ hungry. And I didn't forget—"

"Okay, okay, whatever you say," she said as she stuffed a bread roll in Midorima's mouth and sat down. He wanted to struggle, but it tasted so good. He sat down, complacent for once.

"Hey, Aza-chan, what are you doing after school today?" Momoi asked.

"Shintaro and I are going to my place to study for midterms," Azami responded.

"Eh?! I've never been to your house before!" Momoi said with a desperate look. She started shaking Azami's shoulders. "Why does Midorin get to see it fiiirst?" Azami smiled at her affectionately.

"You can come too! And Daiki."

"No!" Midorima said. "You know they won't study."

"This is true," said Aomine. "But I'm down to hang out at Aza's house."

"You can't come. I need to study! I can never pay attention because _some_ idiots keep messing around." Midorima glared at Aomine. Aomine just gave him a lazy smile and patted his back.

"No, I want to see Aza-chan's house! Besides, we haven't hung out in three weeks." Momoi thought this was truly terrifying.

"Okay, my house after school, then."

"What, no—"

"Shhh, just keep eating," Aomine said as he stuffed Midorima's mouth with another roll.

—

The door creaked and keys jangled as Azami led the group into her apartment. Momoi took a look around: a peach colored couch, a television set in front of it, a kitchen, hardwood floors. It was a nice apartment. She smiled. It pleased her to see another part of Azami she hadn't seen before.

"You guys can do whatever," Azami told them all as she went inside her room to change her clothes. Midorima and Aomine sat on opposite ends of the couch while Momoi took a look around the apartment. A pile of magazine subscriptions to _Dime_, _SLAM_, _Full Court_, and _Seventeen_ sat on a stool. She looked at the walls and saw a large, bright Gustav Klimt poster, briefly wondering if that was Azami's tastes or her father's. Momoi walked over to her kitchen and looked in her pantry: potato chips, tortilla chips, pasta, and an unsettlingly large stash of foreign candy. Her eyes widened. She understood now why Murasakibara often clung to Azami. Momoi opened the fridge; it was filled with lots of vegetables, a steak, and some salsa. _What kind of life is she living?_

Azami entered her living room in a T-shirt and denim shorts, carrying textbooks.

"Let's start with physics first—that's probably going to be the hardest midterm," she said.

"Agreed," said Midorima as the two sat on the floor at the table in between the couch and the television. They took out their notes and pencils and began flipping through pages of the physics textbook.

"Midterms aren't even that close. Why're you guys studying? Jeez," complained Aomine, long body stretched out on the couch. "Nerds."

Midorima's eye twitched. He had to study. Now that Azami tied with Akashi for first place, Midorima was technically in third place. _Third place_. He almost ripped a page of his textbook.

"It's never too early to study! Plus, my parents want me to go to Rakuzan High, so I need good scores," Azami said, still looking at her book. Momoi looked at her for a moment, wondering.

"Do _you_ want to go to Rakuzan?" Momoi asked her.

"Oh yeah, their uniforms are adorable." Azami looked up at her and smiled. "Their boys are cute, too." Momoi was relieved.

"You want to go to Rakuzan too, right, Midorima?" Aomine said. Midorima nodded.

"Either Rakuzan or Shutoku. Both are top schools, although I'll probably end up at Rakuzan. Better reputation. I considered Seirin too, but it has no basketball team."

"Rakuzan does sound rather nice," Momoi said with a smile. It seemed like that was the high school they'd all go to. "I guess I should study too, if I want to get in." She sat on the floor at the table and took an English textbook.

"Gah, I definitely can't get into Rakuzan," Aomine said as he threw his head back, distressed. He was probably the only one that couldn't. Azami, Akashi, and Midorima were freakishly smart, taking first, first, and second (but really it was _third_) place respectively in school rankings. Momoi was eleventh, Kuroko was twelfth, and Kise was eighteenth. They were all in the top twenty, and Aomine… might've been in the triple digits. This didn't bother him until now, when he realized it meant that he might not get into Rakuzan, where everyone else seemed to be going.

"Oh, please," Azami said. "Between this devious one," she pointed to Momoi, "and Akashi, I'm sure we can pull some strings and get you in. It just wouldn't be legal. Really, though, when do Akashi or Satsuki ever have moral qualms about this sort of thing?" Momoi smirked. "If we go to Rakuzan, we're sure as hell dragging you with us." (It was true: Akashi did always get his way, somehow. Maybe it had something to do with his evil eyes and piles of money.)

Aomine just looked at her, serious for a moment. She just kept studying, eyes intensely focused. He gave her a crooked smile.

"I guess that would be okay."

—

Momoi and Azami lied on the floor, everyone taking a break from studying. Momoi felt the sunlight through the window on her cheek and closed her eyes. Thinking back to the beginning of her and Azami's friendship, she remembered how she felt back then. They got along instantly, but for Momoi it was still awkward. She had never really had girl friends, always being surrounded and preoccupied with the basketball boys, and especially Daiki.

After a few weeks, though, she realized that it was really, really wonderful being friends with Azami. She told her things she couldn't even tell Daiki, and Azami never made snide comments about Momoi's makeup, about her addiction to basketball, about the Infinite or B2ST posters in her room, never made fun of the size of her breasts. To the boys she had always been too girly, too much of a woman, or just a pretty face and nice body, and to the girls… she had never been anything.

But she lied here now, on the cold, hardwood floors next to Azami, and Momoi was just herself and that was perfectly okay. Azami only ever loved her for herself. Momoi felt the pressure beneath her eyes and the lump in her throat and wiped away her tears.

She turned her head to the side. Azami was asleep. Momoi sat up.

"Aza-chaaan!" Momoi said as she shook Azami awake.

"Hmm?" Azami's eyes fluttered open.

"We have to all get into Rakuzan, okay?" Momoi said, very serious. "This is important." Azami smiled at her and sat up.

"Yeah, okay."

* * *

_(8th grade—67th day)_

It was just one of those days, she supposed. Lights off, room dark, Azami lied in bed with the sheets twisted around her body. Her mother had left her a voice message on her cell phone this morning. It was the first time she'd heard her mother's voice in such a long time.

_"Azami."_ Her voice was so sharp._ "I know your father's been on god knows how many 'business trips' and has left you alone at the apartment. Your grades better be up to par. Don't you dare do anything irrespo—_" Azami deleted it before it could finish. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

She felt so weak. She had been doing fine for over two months—she had been happy. But it just took one voicemail, one call of her name in that sharp, shrill voice—_"Azami"_—_oh, please stop_. They were always so long, too, those voicemails. At least her father had the decency to keep it short.

So here she lied, sheets twisted, stomach twisted, an incorrigible sensation of gnawing emptiness. She resigned herself to laying in bed, unable to shake her mother's voice and memories of her childhood.

_"Why're you so stupid, Azami?"_

_"Such an ugly child."_

_"Just listen to your mother, Azami."_

_A slap across the face and unending silence._

She cried. It didn't matter, she knew; Azami didn't even care—but she couldn't stop crying anyway. It was just one of those days.

Her phone suddenly rang, her breezy ringtone intruding on the heavy silence.

"Hello?" she answered.

"God, Azami, get over here. These idiots are giving me a headache—SHUT THE FUCK UP, AOMINE—Azami, save me," said Midorima, sounding desperate.

"What?"

There was a pause, then Midorima whispered fiercely, "_They broke my lucky item. They broke my lucky item. Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god—_" Azami's eyes widened. _Oh, shit. They broke his lucky item._ She put him on speaker as she pulled off her pajamas and put on jeans and a tank top.

"Where are you?" Azami yelled to her phone.

"We're—mmhphah—"

"Azami! It's Momoi. We're at the diner. Um, you should probably pick up a glass bunny, if you can."

"Gotcha." Azami grabbed her keys and her money and booked it.

—

Midorima pet his new glass bunny, breathing heavily. Azami finally sat down, winded from all the running. Momoi was shaking Aomine by the shoulders, berating him for breaking Midorima's lucky item. Akashi was there, too, much to her surprise; he sat in the corner next to Aomine, flipping through what looked like Momoi's binder of player and team profiles for the next game.

"Are you okay, Shintaro?" Azami asked. He nodded. She thought his serious dedication to his superstitious astrology and horoscopes—and especially those lucky items—was strange at first, but she realized that that was just who he was, and that was okay.

"Thanks," said Midorima. He looked at his new glass bunny, and then at Azami. He had only known her for a little over two months, but he was already hanging out with her almost every day. It was probably because she wasn't a loud idiot like most of the people that made up his basketball team, or scary like Akashi, or too quiet and aloof like Kuroko. She wasn't annoying.

"You want to go check out that antique store that just opened up later?" she asked him. She was also the only person ever willing to go with him at 5:00 a.m. to scout for that day's lucky item.

"Yeah. That'd be nice."

Akashi looked up from his binder and saw Midorima's pleased face. He wasn't smiling—he almost never smiled—but a purse of the lips and airy gaze told Akashi that Midorima was happy. That Midorima and the new girl got along so well was somewhat surprising. They were often together. He then looked over to Azami, and he thought he saw a tear in the corner of her eye. She wiped her eyes swiftly. _Hm_. Yet she was smiling and laughing quite loudly.

She ate food off of the others' plates (that bunny was $50, for god's sake, and now she had no money) and as they all talked and fooled around, she couldn't help but feel breezy and free. It was just one of those days.

* * *

_(8th grade—231st day)_

It was hard being a gorgeous athlete sometimes, as Kise knew. He had just rejected another romantic confession.

"I—I know we haven't talked much, but—but, I think you're perfect and I've been in love with you since the first week of school. Please go out with me!" She bowed and shut her eyes tight, head spinning and unable to look at Kise properly.

_Love? How do you love someone you never talk to?_ Kise was sure he really only loved his family, anyway: his parents and his sisters. He had kissed girls and had lots of distant friends, but he didn't love any of them. He stared at the girl before him. He thought he could almost see some strands of her hair quivering. She didn't love him.

"I'm really flattered, and you're very pretty, but I can't return your feelings. I'm sorry." He looked at her with gentle eyes and tried to be as polite as he could.

"Ah—Ah, I see. I'm sorry. Thank you." She let out a breath and almost looked relieved. "I knew you wouldn't say yes, but I just had to give it a shot before summer." She bowed and thanked him again, and they said their goodbyes.

_"...I think you're perfect."_

_"I just had to give it a shot..."_

_No_, he thought. She didn't love him at all.

His phone vibrated and he saw that he had a text.

**—AZAMICCHI:** RYOUTA. GET OVER HERE. YOU OWE ME ICE CREAM.

He grinned widely, teeth gleaming. Kise and Azami had a bad habit of making bets, and the Clippers beat the Knicks, so now he owed her ice cream.

**—RYOTA:** Yes, princess.

He jogged over to the front of the school to see Azami sitting crosslegged on a bench, waiting for him.

"Sorry, Azamicchi. I got caught up," he said. She smiled knowingly.

"Did someone confess to you again? Was it that boy from class 1-C that gives you chocolate every month?"

"No. It was a girl, and I didn't recognize her."

"Ah, you poor thing; it's so hard being a gorgeous athlete. Well, let's go. Atsushi is already halfway to the ice cream parlor, he's so eager."

"But Akashicchi says he can't have any ice cream until we win tomorrow's game!" Kise looked scandalized. She threw him a charming, careless smile.

"But_ I_ say he deserves ice cream for working so hard this month. Besides, Atsushi scored so many points the last game and hasn't complained in a long time. I'm sure Akashi will be lenient."

"Lenient? When is he ever lenient?" Kise was flabbergasted. As carefree as he was, he didn't dare to try disobeying Akashi. Azami just shrugged. So responsible, yet so easygoing sometimes, he thought.

"Hey—wait. So you think I'm gorgeous?" Kise asked, suddenly taking in her previous comment. Azami laughed.

"Yeah, of course. You're really pretty," she said without reserve. He was simultaneously pleased and bothered.

"Can't you use a different word? Like, 'hot' or 'sizzling' or 'devastatingly handsome'?" He puffed his cheeks. She laughed and pinched both his cheeks.

"You are hot and sizzling and devastatingly handsome." She let go. He rubbed his cheeks and grinned, eyes sparkling. "Now you owe me lunch, too," she demanded.

"Okay. Let's have soup," he suggested.

"I hate soup," Azami said. He narrowed his eyes.

"Are you even human?"

"Sometimes. God, I miss Mexican food." She sighed. "Hey, let's have meatloaf."

"Too heavy! I have a game tomorrow."

"You little nance." She punched his arm lightly. He just grinned and rustled her hair.

"Soup, it is!" They marched on, and Azami just smiled at him, eyes crinkling._ I guess soup is okay too._

When they reached the ice cream parlor, the saw Murasakibara with one gummy-bear-and-sprinkle-topped sundae, a giant chocolate wafer with a scoop of pink icecream, two sweet-and-salty caramel bars, and a Neapolitan shake.

"Oi vey. Atsushi! You shouldn't eat that many sweets!" Azami scolded.

"What did I tell you?" Kise said to her. Murasakibara apologized with his mouth full and a saliva-covered gummy bear fell out and landed on Kise's shoe.

—

After they finished their ice cream, they left to have lunch. Opening the door of the restaurant, they saw Aomine, Momoi, and Kuroko sitting at a booth.

"Ahh! Aza-chan!" Momoi stood up and smothered Azami with a hug as she approached. "What are you and Muk-kun and the other idiot doing here?"

"You used to call me 'Ki-chan'! Why am I 'the other idiot' now?" Kise said as he and Murasakibara sat down next to Aomine on one side of the booth.

"You were 'Ki-chan' before you started monopolizing all of Aza-chan's time! Hmph." Momoi sat next to Kuroko on the other side of the booth and pulled Azami over to sit with her, sticking her tongue out at Kise. Azami thought she was adorable.

"Oh, what're you eating?" Azami asked as she eyed Aomine's plate of meat buns. She grabbed one and took a bite.

"Hey! Punk," Aomine grumbled and took a swig of his drink. She just smiled and forcefully shoved a meat bun in his mouth.

"Just eat your food, Daiki."

"Mmphrhghhaah—" He pulled the bun out of his mouth and chewed vigorously. "God, you really are a punk," Aomine said, but ruffled her hair all the same. She smiled and kept eating.

Momoi doted on Kuroko as Murasakibara ordered more sweets and Kise scolded him for it, and meanwhile Aomine stole Kise's food. They all got to talking about basketball soon—tomorrow's game—and their plans for the summer. They were all giddy. Azami looked around the table at each person and realized that this was probably the happiest she'd ever been.

When it was time for everyone to leave at about 5:00 p.m., Kise and Azami walked home together; the two lived in the same neighborhood. The sun was just setting, and the sky was all orange and yellow.

"Hey, Azamicchi."

"Hmm?"

"The girl that confessed to me today—she said I was perfect. Do you think I'm perfect?"

"Hmm." She looked pensive for a moment. "I don't know about that. You're kind of a nance."

"Bah." Kise playfully punched her arm and smiled.

"Gah, you're lucky I love you, you nance," Azami said. Kise was taken aback. She hadn't ever said that before. He looked at her seriously for a moment and didn't know what to say. She smiled at him, eyes bright. The bottom of his stomach felt warm. He really did only love his family, he thought. _I guess she's family now._

* * *

_(8th grade—199th day)_

She was all ocean, all the time. Blues, greens, more blues—how was he the only one that noticed it?

Akashi noticed her as she entered the classroom. She had a teal hair bow clipped in the back of her head. Today her thigh-high socks were a deep navy blue. He kept staring at them. A little bit of white skin was visible between the darkness of her skirt and socks. He looked away immediately.

She walked over to Midorima's desk and started conversing with him.

"Morning, Shintarou," she said.

"Good morning, Azami," he responded.

"Hey, can I borrow your notes from today's history class? I was totally out of it first period," she said. Akashi expected him to refuse; Midorima had become so uptight about his "intellectual property" ever since he had slipped to third place.

"Sure," Midorima said as he handed her his history notebook. "Why were you out of it? I saw you sleeping during the lecture. You never do that." Midorima looked a little concerned. Aomine slept during class all the time, sure, but Azami was dead serious about academics and grades, Midorima knew.

Azami flipped through Midorima's notebook, not really looking, and thought back to last night. Her mother came to her and her father's apartment last night, angry. Azami's father called a cab and sent her on her way; he then went out for the rest of the night, probably to stay over at his girlfriend's house. She had watched movies on the couch all night after that, unable to sleep, the glow of the television screen numbing her.

"I couldn't sleep," she finally responded.

"Ah." He planned to ask her about it more later.

"Oh, hey, I got you something," Azami said as she reached into her bag. She pulled out a can.

"Red bean soup!"

"Yeah, because you were complaining yesterday about how you haven't had it in a long time. I know it's your favorite," she explained. Midorima didn't really smile, but the way the right corner of his mouth tilted upward slightly told her he was pleased.

"Thank you," he said, noticing that the can was his favorite brand, too, and was chilled, the way he liked to drink it in the mornings. No wonder he had given up on being her academic rival so long ago. He still aimed for first place, of course, but Azami wasn't meant to be a rival.

"You're welcome," she said.

She took her seat as the break ended and the English lesson began. Akashi noticed that her eyes wandered to the scene beyond the window next to her. He supposed she didn't really need to pay attention anyway, considering her English was so good from those years spent in America. Still, it was uncharacteristic.

Akashi didn't know when or (more importantly) _why_ he started noticing her.

Maybe it was because she always looked at him straight in the eyes, unfearing and unwavering. That was rare, especially since he never sensed a challenge in her eyes, unlike the few other people that looked at him without reserve. Her gaze was unfearing and unwavering because she looked at him as if he was normal. This somewhat irritated him. People weren't meant to look at him like that.

Maybe it was because she was around the basketball team all the time. They had become such close friends. Even Shintaro, uptight and joyless as ever, seemed to enjoy her company. They were oddly close. Satsuki and Ryota adored her. Atsushi treated her like she was his mother. Even Daiki and Tetsuya liked her well enough.

Maybe it was because he had never met someone who wore so much blue. It was clearly her favorite color. It wasn't as if her entire outfit was blue, or she wore blue exclusively. It was just the small accents—the bows, the socks. She also wore green frequently, and overall she began to remind him of the ocean. When she wore orange or yellow or peach, it reminded him of the sun's reflection on the water at sunset. Even her blue eyes were like water, and sometimes when he looked at them he felt like he was shaking, like waves. This irritated him as well.

Maybe it was because she called just about everyone by their first name, except for him. She still called him "Akashi-san." So formal. Did he scare her? He took pleasure in the thought. But she didn't look scared of him. Eyes calm like water, always. Yet they shook. What a paradox.

Maybe it was because the first time he called her "Azami," she flinched, and she had never reacted that way since.

Maybe it was because he couldn't tell if she was demure or bold, sedate or passionate.

Maybe it was because she looked really, really good in a pair of thigh-high stockings.

His eyes widened slightly.

* * *

_(summer—9th day)_

Azami was lying on a beach towel under the giant umbrella because she didn't want to play volleyball with the rest of the gang. Akashi _said_ he was lying there because he didn't want to play either, but he wasn't quite sure if that was entirely true. So the two of them lied on the beach, in silence, at noon, and a foot apart, while everyone else played volleyball. Azami was gazing off into the sea.

"The ocean makes me kind of uneasy," she said suddenly, still looking off into the distance. He turned to look at her and saw the sunlight gleaming in her blue eyes.

"I know the feeling," he responded after a few moments.

Azami's eyes grew gentle. She didn't know what kind of response she expected from him, saying something so strangely all of a sudden. But she was glad he responded the way he did.

They lied in silence for a few moments before Azami turned to him and said, "Hey, Akashi."

A year of knowing each other and she had only dropped the "-san," Akashi thought.

"Yes?" he said.

"Do you like your parents?" she asked, sober.

He hadn't expected that. He wasn't sure how to respond; he just looked her, and he noticed the way she was gripping the sand, the way her lips pursed, the way her loose hairs gently swept across her forehead. The truth, then.

"No," he said. Akashi was just so god damn honest sometimes. She loved that about him.

He didn't need to ask her the same question. Her expression and the fact that she asked him this at all—that told him the answer. He wanted to reach out and sweep back the loose hairs across her forehead, to hold her face in his hands and tell her _it's okay_, _it's okay_, although he didn't know anything about her parents. This urge frightened him. Fear was such a foreign feeling.

"I see," she said quietly.

"Parents are rather unnecessary, honestly," he said. She blinked.

"What?"

"Most snake species don't even take care of their young, and frogs and tortoises abandon their eggs after laying them."

"So you're suggesting that we humans could do that too?"

"Yeah."

"Babies, by themselves," she said.

"Yes."

"Roaming the streets," she said.

"Driving cars," he said.

"Feeding themselves."

"Paying taxes," he added. She started laughing, and he smiled a little, pleased.

Momoi, Kise, Midorima, Murasakibara, Kuroko, and Aomine, all playing beach volleyball, turned their heads to the source of the laughter. Azami was laughing and Akashi looked at her… with a smile? Akashi actually made her laugh? Akashi was actually smiling non-sadistically? Akashi was looking human?

_Huh_.

—

It was getting dark, and they were all setting up for the bonfire and dinner.

"Okay, you have to admit: _Pulp Fiction_ was a damn good movie. Everybody loves _Pulp Fiction_," Azami said, carrying some wood and newspaper for the bonfire.

"...Okay, yes. I liked _Pulp Fiction_," Akashi admitted.

"Ha!" she exclaimed, finally finding a movie he liked. He shot down all her other beloved movies. "Really, though, your taste in movies is ridiculous. I never met anyone who hated _Annie Hall_, _The Wizard of Oz_, _Singin' in the Rain_, and _Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid_. Like, what a wide variety of movies to hate."

"I don't want this from someone who unironically enjoyed _Titanic_."

"It made me cry."

"Because it was so bad."

"You have no heart."

"Well, it was kind of funny when Leonardo DiCaprio is slowly freezing to death and she pushes him away at the end," he offered. Azami smacked his shoulder lightly with a rolled-up newspaper.

Momoi and Kise, who were eavesdropping on their conversation while pretending to arrange food on the blanket, looked at them with wide eyes. Akashi lips tilted upward just slightly enough to keep them guessing as to whether or not he was smiling. On top of that, Akashi just let Azami whack him playfully with a newspaper. _What?_ No one else would ever be able to get away with that. (Akashi once made Aomine do quadruple the training regimen because Aomine gave him a pat on the back and told him to "lighten up" back in their first year, back when there were still some people on the basketball team that didn't yet know to be afraid of Akashi.)

"Well, did you like _Citizen Kane_?" Azami asked.

"It was okay," Akashi said indifferently.

"But you liked _Vertigo_, right?"

"I did, actually. It's one of my favorites," he said. She sighed in relief.

"Thank god. I'm glad we can still be friends."

"I almost fell asleep during _Schindler's List_, though," he said.

"Shut up."

Momoi and Kise looked at each other, unbelieving. Midorima (who _swore_ he wasn't eavesdropping), who probably spent the most time with Akashi, almost dropped all the firewood he was carrying when he head Azami telling Akashi to "shut up." And Akashi didn't do anything to her. He just let her.

_Oh my god_, Momoi mouthed silently to Kise.

_I know_, he mouthed back.

Aomine, Murasakibara, and Kuroko came back from the car with more food and the bonfire was ready to be lit. They set everything down and Aomine lit the bonfire.

It sparked and crackled and soon the wood and newspaper were completely on fire. Everyone watched it for a while until Momoi shouted, "All right. Let's eat!"

They shuffled around a bit and started opening the food. Murasakibara immediately went for the sweets and bit into a Túró Rudi bar that Azami bought; she said it was Hungarian. Azami ate potato chips first, and Momoi could see why the two got along well. Momoi looked over at Akashi, who was drinking soy milk and snacking on seeds, no doubt for their protein. She shook her head in disapproval.

"Daiki, Akashi, why don't you go put on your shirts? It's starting to get cold," Momoi suggested. Those two were the only ones still in their swimming trunks, shirtless. Azami had really been trying to ignore the fact that this was the first time she had seen Akashi shirtless, or the fact that his swimming trunks were blue and he looked really nice her favorite color.

Aomine shrugged. "Don't feel like it."

"It's not necessary," Akashi said. He enjoyed the cold.

"Hey, Aza-chan, why didn't you wear a bathing suit today?" Momoi asked Azami. "You would look so cute!"

"I don't really like wearing bathing suits," she responded. She had worn a light camisole and shorts all day. Akashi tried not to notice that it was still probably the most skin she had ever shown, or that he had never looked at Momoi that way even when she wore bikinis. Actually, he had never looked at any girl that way before, no matter what they were wearing.

"Why not?" Momoi asked.

"They make me kind of uncomfortable," she explained. Momoi didn't push it any further, just telling Azami that she still looked cute.

Azami's phone vibrated, and she saw that she got a text from her cousin.

"Who is it?" Kise asked.

"Cousin in America," Azami said.

She read his text:

**—DAMN COUSIN: **I made your favorite and you can't have any.

It was accompanied by a picture of heavy curry and rice. She smiled and took a picture of everyone and the bonfire, sending it to him.

"What's your cousin like?" Momoi asked, curious.

"Short-tempered. Kind of blunt. He's great, though," Azami said. "He's actually really good at basketball. I bet he'd give you guys a run for your money."

Aomine scoffed. "Yeah, right."

The night was winding down, and laughter and conversation gave way to drowsiness.

"I'm tired," said Kuroko finally. None of them wanted the night to end, though.

"Hey, we should all sleep over at someone's house," said Kise.

"Mine is too small," said Kuroko. Everyone else's house was pretty out out of the question due to parents and the lateness of the plan.

"We can go to my place," Azami said, seeing that there was no other option. She practically lived alone, anyway. She hadn't seen her father in about a month.

The all packed up and hopped in the car, and Aomine (illegally) drove to Azami's apartment.

—

Her keys jangled as she opened the door and everyone entered. Akashi looked around. He was the only one on the basketball team who had never seen Azami's apartment.

He saw a reproduction of "The Tree of Life" on the walls. There were stacks of magazines and books strewn about, and a case filled with DVDs next to the television. Everyone sat or lied on the floor, making themselves comfortable, while Akashi sat on the couch. He noticed a copy of _Sleepless in Seattle_ on her coffee table. He smiled. He hated that movie, but he smiled anyway.

Azami walked into her bedroom and came out with blankets and pillows for everyone. Almost everybody was already asleep. She placed blankets over everyone on the floor and plopped on the couch next to Akashi. He noticed that she was wearing a large ABBA T-shirt.

"ABBA? Really?" he said, looking rather appalled. She grinned at him and took a pillow, lightly hitting him.

"I have Super Junior socks, too. Got them for Christmas last year," she said with a laugh. He smiled, always so pleased with her laugh. She looked at him and thought that he so rarely smiled. He was like Midorima in that sense, she supposed. But she noticed that he smiled more frequently today, when he was with her, and she tried not to get her hopes up. _It doesn't mean anything_, she reminded herself.

"I'm not tired at all," Akashi said after a few moments of silence.

"Me neither."

So they talked. They talked all night, and at one point they went to the kitchen and made pizza rolls, and they listened to music, and they kept talking and whispering until Akashi could feel himself slipping into that foreign feeling, the one that frightened him, and he tried to ignore it, but she was standing in front of him with slightly messy hair and an oversized ABBA T-shirt and she told him how her cousin had taught her how to play basketball when they were younger, how much she missed certain foods she used to eat all the time in America, how the Mexican food here was so soupy and Japanese, how her parents were divorced and her father was gone most of the time, but she didn't mind because she liked having the apartment to herself, how she loved peppermint-flavored things and often ate vegetables to balance out her otherwise unhealthy diet, and when he told her that most people found his eyes unsettling she told him she thought they were beautiful, and he could feel himself slipping, slipping, gone.

* * *

_(summer—last day)_

She was wearing red shoes today, he noticed. She never wore red.

They walked side by side, shoulders almost touching. They group had just finished having dinner together and Akashi was now walking Azami home. They strolled on the sidewalk, passing by the park, and enjoyed the light breeze against their skin. The sun was still bright and the sky was still blue.

Azami looked at him from the corner of her eye and she loved the way the sunlight hit his bright red hair. She could always pick him out from a crowd, despite his short stature (she still found it funny that they were the same height). When they separated during the festival recently, she found him almost immediately because of that hair. She still remembered the way he laughed that night—it was so rare to hear him laugh. She pinched his cheeks when he told her that he didn't like _The Princess Bride_, and he scolded her about eating too much sodium, how that was bad for her heart. She smiled at the memory. She looked at him once again and saw that he was looking at her too.

"Hey," he said to her, as he stopped walking and ended their comfortable silence.

"Hmm?"

"Call me Seijuro," he said, looking at her straight in the eyes. Her heart started beating faster and she could feel her neck get hot. A few moments of silence passed.

"Okay," she said finally. "Seijuro."

The name burned on her tongue, burned her mouth. She felt hot. She had been wanting to call him that for ages now, but she didn't want to be too forward, to make him uncomfortable, to make a fool of herself. _Seijuro_. It felt so good to say.

He kept his gaze on her as they continued walking. He wanted to tell her, _Say it again_, but refrained. He swallowed. His name had never sounded so good as when she said it. He didn't know it could sound that good. He wanted to reach out, to close the distance between them and put his arm around her, place his hand against the small of her back, stroke her hair—anything. But he didn't.

Looking at her was enough. _For now._

* * *

They were fools for basketball, and they were fools for each other. That was the problem, though—they were still fools, and they didn't know how to hang on to each other.

* * *

_(9th grade—231st day)_

"Everyone's changed," Kuroko said. Azami thought he looked broken, and she wondered how she looked at that moment. The two sat on the curb in front of her apartment. It was nearing 9:00 p.m.

"I know," she said. "I know."

"None of them enjoy basketball anymore," he said. But what neither of them said, what neither of them had to say because they had felt it for the past year, was that no one really cared about each other anymore. Not like they used to. It was like Kuroko and Azami were the only ones left unchanged, the only ones cared at all.

"Hey, Tetsu," she said, looking at the darkening sky, her vision getting blurry with unfallen tears.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think things will ever go back to the way they were? With everyone enjoying basketball again?" _With everyone together again._

He looked at her, and in an uncharacteristically bold move he put his hand over her's and held it tight, because he could see that she needed it.

"I know they will. I'll make sure they will," he said, voice hard. At these words, she gave in and started crying. He sounded so convincing, she thought; she wanted so badly to believe him. Her body shaking, she turned to him.

"Tetsu, I still care about you a lot. Do you still care about me?" She tried to hold in her sobbing. It was so unbearable. Did anyone love her anymore? He grabbed her and held her tight.

"Of course. Of course I do," he whispered. He held her tighter as she cried harder.

They stayed that way until she gradually stopped crying. After he walked her upstairs to her apartment, he left, and she wanted to grab him, hold on to him and tell him not to leave her, please, please, but she couldn't.

She did not come to school the next day, and she left for the United States two days after that, one month before graduation.

* * *

_(9th grade—234th day)_

On Azami's third day absent, someone finally asked.

"Hey, what's up with Azamicchi?" Kise said. He stared at her empty desk, untouched for the third day now. Aomine shrugged.

"The flu's been going around," Aomine said. "Maybe she's sick."

Midorima remembered the way Azami came to school last year even when she had a high fever, and he started to worry.

"Has she contacted any of you?" Midorima asked. Everybody shook their heads.

"Huh," Kise said. No one questioned it further. Watching them silently, Kuroko wanted them to ask, to show more concern. They were all, however, preoccupied with something. Like they always were.

He knew where she was. Azami was at the airport at this time, waiting for her flight that would leave in half an hour. They had discussed this for the past few days, and Kuroko said he would miss her, but that she should do it if it was what she needed. She called him up last night and gave him her new cell phone number and asked him to text her often, or maybe call once in a while, and he said of course, of course. He clutched his pencil more tightly thinking about it.

His phone vibrated. Azami sent him a picture of where she was accompanied by a text:

**—AZAMI:** Almost time to leave. God, I know I'm a coward for leaving. I'll miss you so much.

He understood, though, why she needed to. She was going back to America to live with her uncle and cousin again. In Japan, Azami only had Kuroko. She used to have the basketball team, but she didn't anymore. All that was left was her empty apartment, and himself. But Kuroko knew it wasn't enough, that this entire situation hurt even more for her than it did for him, and he couldn't be mad at her. He understood, so he just couldn't bring himself to be mad.

He wished he could have been there in person to see her off, though.

**—TETSUYA:** It's okay. It'll all be okay. Have a safe flight. Please text me when your plane lands. I'll miss you too.

_Please come back soon._

* * *

**Author's note**:

Wow, okay, so that was kind of long. If you read it all (even if you hated it), or even just a portion of it, thank you so much for giving it a chance! Just so you know, there will be a time-skip to their high school years soon, when Azami is back. The rest of the story (when she's back) won't be formatted like this (non-linear, abrupt scenes with exact dates listed), and this is more of a flashback.

Please tell me if there are any typos/other errors you found (I read over it several times, but there are usually still mistakes) or if you have an issue with the story in that it was offensive to you and I will try to understand and address the problem as best I can!

Sorry for Akashi OOC-ness D: I guess these are his pre-obsessive/unhealthy years? I don't know o.o Also, sorry for the clunky/awkward characterization and cheesy moments ahh =~=

If you have any questions or comments or complaints for whatever reason you can leave them in a review, message me here, or message me on tumblr (my URL is skip-beats)?

Thanks again! :D


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